


Doubts

by Peevesie_Fics



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, F/M, Life and Afterlife, Moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24214693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peevesie_Fics/pseuds/Peevesie_Fics
Summary: Imelda does not like doubts and tries her best to avoid them, but they are everywhere.
Relationships: Héctor Rivera/Imelda Rivera
Comments: 13
Kudos: 53





	Doubts

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to explore Imelda's dilemmas regarding Héctor throughout her life, and this thing happened. Enjoy!

(1)

Imelda did not mean to shout at her daughter. But Coco asked whether her papá had written, for the umpteenth time, and it was one time too many for Imelda this time. She sinks back down on the bed feeling exhausted, resisting the urge to follow Coco as she runs out of the room. It is better to give her some time to calm down before going to comfort her.

She knows she should not have shouted at Coco. It is not her fault. She has no way of knowing how Imelda is feeling, how doubt is clawing at her, growing every day. It has been months, and not one letter from Héctor - not even on Coco's birthday. She thinks she knows what this might mean - but she did not dare to think about it until she snapped this morning. 'He's not coming back, Coco,' she said. 'Just give up.'

She snapped at herself, in a way. Those words, those vile, bitter words are as new and as terrifying to her as they are to Coco. She isn't sure how to deal with them now.

She clutches her head with both her hands. This is getting too much to bear. The ache inside her is eating away at her insides, the uncertainty and anxiety making her feel sick to the core. She knows she should have seen this coming. Nobody can stand her. Nobody ever has. At one point in her life, she has been reminded every single day, by her mother, the neighbours, and who knows who else - that she is never going to be a good wife. Men don't like women like her, she has been told. And Héctor is a man, after all.

But could she have seen this coming? Héctor is different from other men. He was the first person ever to apparently think she is a wonderful person for who she is. All those times he told her how much he loved her, all those times he made her feel like she is worth something, all those songs he wrote for her - were they all for nothing, then? Did he never truly love her? Did she choose him over her family for this?

No - that had to mean something. It was too real to be nothing. Maybe he really loved her once, because - why did he love her? Because he is a romantic, maybe? Now that she thinks of it, if he fell for her so easily, it makes sense that he would fall for someone else just as easily, write songs for someone else, call someone else his diosa -

But even if he stopped loving her, is he weak enough to forget his responsibilities as a husband, a father? How can he do this to their daughter? How can he just leave her alone with a child to fend for herself? Has he stopped loving Coco too? Has he been away from home for so long that he has forgotten how happy Coco is everytime he comes home?

Ignoring the steadily growing pain eating at her insides, she stands up. It will never do to mope around like this. She and Coco can not go all their lives on her meagre savings. She has to find a way to get by, and she has to learn to move on from him. She has to. Like he clearly has.

'I'm sorry, mija,' she says to Coco that evening. 'But I think we have to find a way to make do without your papá.' She stares straight ahead, not daring to glance down at her daughter and see the look on her face at her words. Even then, it takes every bit of her resolve to finally say those words out loud without breaking down.

(2)

'What do you want now?' she says, eyes narrowed.

'Nothing,' he says quietly, looking at his feet. 'I wasn't looking for you, I swear.'

'Why did you come to talk to me then?'

He looks up, seemingly contemplating what to say. 'I'm sorry, Imelda.'

She groans. Why does he keep saying the same thing? 'Do you still think I would forgive you, Héctor?'

'No,' he says quickly. 'Just - I am sorry.'

'Go away, Héctor.'

'Sí.' He turns away and disappears round a corner.

She stares after him and sighs. Why does she keep running into Héctor? Why doesn't she just keep an eye out for him and consciously avoid him? But then again, it is not easy to ignore his existence and keep an eye out for him at the same time. It is exhausting to shout at him every time he comes to talk to her, and though she would never admit it, not even to herself, it is also exhausting to see that crushed look in his eyes everytime. She is getting tired of turning him away, and by the look of it, he is, too.

She makes her way home, ignoring the unfinished shopping list in her hand. He really did not mean to seek her out this time, that is obvious. He seems to have given up on her. He has not approached her once in the last few years. She has lost count of how many times he had confronted her before that. He has tried to give reasons for not being able to come home, but they both know that he has no excuse for leaving in the first place.

Every one of those encounters has shaken her more than she cares to admit. Deep down, she has doubted time and again whether she is right to blame him. But that does not mean she would even think about forgiving him, let alone accepting him back. She now knows he died young. Maybe he really had tried to go home then? Maybe he had not abandoned them after all - but no. He had still left her, left his family that he had claimed to love more than anything else. No matter how many times he apologizes now, he can never make up for what he had done.

She dumps her shopping bags in the hallway and drags herself up to her bedroom, a turmoil in her head that she once knew quite well. She has come this far, it will never do to cry over Héctor all over again now. She has built a family and a successful business from scratch, she is happy - but why is she still unable to shake off that old heartbreak? She knows she still feels hurt over it, she can not lie to herself.

She buries her face in her hands and sighs. Are ninety years not enough to move on? Héctor is in her past now, she tells herself. She does not have to bother about him anymore. But she had told herself the same thing decades back, and had ended up running into him after her death, and again, and again. When will she see the last of him? When will she be free of these doubts that keep nagging at the dark corners in her head?

(3)

From what she sees of Miguel every year, she has a feeling though he is a good child, he is incapable of going long periods of time without getting in trouble (one of the many things about him that remind her of someone she struggles to forget). But getting cursed to the Land of the Dead and running off on his family while actively going against the music ban is too much, even for him.

She anticipated an eventful night the moment she knew she couldn't cross over, but she had no idea then just how eventful.

She did not give the scanner a second thought as she perfunctorily waited to be scanned like every other year. Not having a photo on an ofrenda was not even an option - until then.

Nothing could have prepared her for the surge of panic that followed the grating buzz of the scanner. She hardly registered the woman's voice say 'I'm sorry, Senora,' didn't even hear what her brothers were saying, as she leaned on the counter for support. How could she not have - no, it was not possible that her family would not put up her photo. It was a mistake, it had to be.

As she tried to shake off the panic and regain control, a voice piped up inside her, dark and uninvited. _This is how Héctor feels every year and it's your fault, _it said. Except it's not her fault, it's his, she reasoned with the persistent voice. He is the one who left her.__

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Huffing in frustration, she decided that now was not the time to argue with the illogical part of herself all over again. She pushed those thoughts as far back into her mind as she could, hoping to focus on more pressing matters.

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It was easy at first, especially after Miguel ran off. With her concentration on finding the boy, she completely forgot about Héctor. Until Miguel's trail led them to a certain song. She braced herself to block out the music the moment she heard it from afar. But for the life of her, she can not block out that song. It is her song, and she would recognise that voice anywhere. She instinctively escaped from the plaza, running away where she would not have to hear it. He was here. Why was he everywhere? Why do they keep running into each other, even when both are minding their own business? And, more importantly, why does that song still affect her like this? She should have been over it by now, her knees should not be shaking and her head should not be spinning.

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But she did not dwell on that either. She has to send Miguel home, and everything else will have to wait. Somewhere between that and singing to Miguel in a dark alley, she completely gave up thinking and began to just let things happen. Even when she saw Héctor again, it was just another time. She had accepted the fact that she would have to keep running into him for eternity. She steeled herself to tell him off once again, and hoped that would be it with him. But it was not, and she had to stop to think once again, even though she meant to not think anything else until Miguel was home safe.

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The revelation that he was murdered is not as surprising as it should have been. She realises she has believed for a long time - since seeing him for the first time after her death, perhaps - that not coming home was not his fault. It is not surprising that his supposed best friend did it, either. He always made her uncomfortable for no apparent reason, and she knows Héctor had been stressed out with their so-called friendship before he left for the last time.

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What is surprising is that he is being forgotten. She realises that she has never thought about that possibility, even though she has sworn to forget him long ago. She should have thought of it. She knows he had died early, far too early to leave any legacy anywhere, and she knows he could not cross over. But she has never considered the possibility that he may be actually be forgotten.

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It is painful. She can no longer go on hurting him. She can't let go of all her hurt and anger just like that, but she also can't watch him be forgotten. Maybe he has compensated enough for his mistake after all, and it is time for her to swallow her pride and let him back on the family's ofrenda, let him visit Coco like he wants to. Maybe he deserves that much now. She is responsible for him being nearly forgotten now, even if it is his fault for leaving her, and she will help him now.

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She thinks she has sorted out her thoughts, but she is faced with a new doubt now. All along, she has done what she thought was right, but has it all been worth it? Maybe she couldn't have done parts of it differently, but all those times she turned him away, refused to at least listen to him, refused to consider that his excuses for not coming home may actually be reasons - was it worth it? He has done something unforgivable, but does he deserve everything he is going through?

*

She loves him. She knows she does, even after all these years. Her afterlife was turned upside down, and now she is crossing every line she has drawn for herself, effectively breaking down all the walls she has built up around herself. She is breaking her vow to never love anyone again, not even him, especially not him - but maybe that vow has always been broken.

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What else can she do? He is having that effect on her again, the one he used to have on her so many years ago. She is feeling that recklessness, that addiction to breaking rules that she almost forgot. But most importantly, she is feeling full, something she has not felt in almost a century. She is feeling loved, and cherished, and like she really is worth more than she thinks she is. It's him. He always made her feel this way, and he is now.

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In different circumstances, she would have thought this is a bad idea. He has hurt you, she would have told herself. Don't let him back in your life again. Protect yourself. But she does not tell herself so. It doesn't matter to her now. He still does love her, still, for some incomprehensible reason, thinks she is a goddess. So what is the harm in allowing herself to be reckless? What is the harm in letting that old unspoken trust take over, the trust that he would never hurt her again?

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And so she does. She allows herself to feel her love for him again, and it feels better than she could have ever imagined, it makes her feel secure of herself. Admitting to herself how she feels about him makes the doubts go away. 

*

Her resolve shatters the moment Miguel disappears in a flash of cempasuchil and her job is done. She is a realist, she has always been, and she knows there's no point in holding on to a faint glimmer of hope. She knows what's about to happen, and she will never forgive herself for this. She hugs her husband close, mentally going through the million things that could be her last words to him, and settles on silently weeping. She's finally free of all the doubts that plagued her throughout her life and afterlife - but at what cost?

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But then they are there until the sun is higher up, and he is not having Final Death spasms anymore, so maybe she can hold on to that glimmer of hope? Maybe she will have another chance, to make it up to him, and maybe they will have another chance? Maybe she will be able to tell him everything she has to, because she is finally sure of herself now.

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Finally, all her doubts are gone.

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End file.
